


Trouble

by Memeboiz



Series: Hanzo: the Repressed Nerd [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Cowboy AU, Eventual Relationships, Jesse is the town's sheriff, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, Young Hanzo Shimada, although everything is a cowboy au with jesse lmao, but like it's really brief so don't worry lol, just uh skip chapter 4 if that isn't your cup of tea, young as in like 29 or 30
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-09-08 19:08:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8857369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Memeboiz/pseuds/Memeboiz
Summary: Jesse McCree is the Sheriff of a small, tight-knit county. Outsiders aren't always welcome- especially when they're trying to buy the town out from under the locals' feet. This businessman- Shimada, as he's called- doesn't seem too different, at first.But it seems, for once, that McCree was wrong.





	1. Fresh Meat

It wasn't common for new folks to stay in Jesse McCree's town for too long. Outsiders didn't sit well with the locals. Although plenty of wanderers would blow through the dusty old town and leave the next day without a trace, most folks were either too scared of the locals or too intimidated by ol' Deadeye himself to stay. However, it wasn't entirely out of the ordinary for Jesse to spot a car rolling into the town as he gazed out the window of the top floor of the Sherriff's office.

The car was followed by a billowing cloud of dust kicked up by the wheels against the dirt road. It was sleek and modern, and Jesse's eyes narrowed- when folks showed up with enough wealth to afford that kind of car, it usually meant trouble. Nosy investors trying to buy everything out from everyone to tear it all down and built some fancy-shmancy hotel or some bullshit. The locals never took too kindly to those sorts of endeavors, and fights almost always broke out. Fights that Jesse needed to break up.  
He frowned and heaved himself up out of his chair, stamping his cigar out as he passed by his desk. He grabbed his hat off of the hat rack and placed it on his head, and descended the staircase leading to the main office of the building. He nodded briskly to the receptionist, who nodded back knowingly.

"Good luck out there, Sheriff," he said, giving a grim smile. "Be careful."

Jesse smiled to himself, and not turning back, gave a lazy wave. "You know I always am."

Jesse pushed open the department's doors and took in the sight before him. A small crowd had gathered- the locals peered at the now parked car with hidden hostility masqueraded as curiosity. Everyone in the crowd was silent as they waited for the owners of the car to finally present themselves, and that they did. The tinted, impassive window on the driver's side of the vehicle rolled down slowly, and it gradually revealed the man at the wheel. Jesse's eyes widened, along with everyone else who was attending the spectacle-which, at this point, was damn near half the town.

The man stuck his head out the window slightly- just enough so that McCree managed to get a good look at him. He was very obviously not from these parts. He had long, silky black hair tied into a loose ponytail. He had a glint in his gaze that struck a chord with Jesse- one that said "Mess with me and I'll put an end to your sorry little life". His features were sharp and Jesse found himself musing that he was nearly elegant- regal, even. McCree let out a low whistle as he approached the car, and noticing his presence, the crowd of onlookers gradually dispersed. They trusted their sheriff to scare off the outsider. The man in the car ran his eyes over McCree, and squinted a little at the harsh light of the sun overhead.

"Afternoon, partner," Jesse said with a slight tip to his hat as he approached the car. The man gave a curt nod, and spoke.

"Greetings," he said, and Jesse gave him a deceivingly warm smile- one that projected warmth, but was cautious all the same.  
Jesse sauntered up to the car, and ducked his head slightly to get a better look at the town's newest guest. Upon closer inspection, Jesse couldn't help but notice how clean he was. Unlike the inhabitants of Jesse's town, he was free of dust and grime. Despite himself, McCree couldn't help but take not of how pristine he was. The man didn't return Jesse's smile, but he shrugged it off.

"Well, boy howdy, that's a fine car you've got yerself," Jesse drawled, eyes roaming over the car's interior. "We don't get many folks like yerself, y'see," he continued. The man nodded uneasily, obviously somewhat uncomfortable under McCree's gaze. The man opened his mouth to speak, but Jesse beat him to it.

"Name's McCree," he said, and held out his hand. The man lifted one hand from the steering wheel and raised his hand to meet Jesse's. The contact was formal and the man's hand was warm, even through McCree's gloves.

"My name is Hanzo Shimada," he replied. He pulled his hand back from McCree and rested it on the steering wheel once again, where his fingers drummed without rhythm against the black leather.

"I assume you've got some business here, seein' as you ain't gone yet." Jesse watched carefully as the man nodded once again, a short and sharp form of acknowledgement.

"You are correct." Shifting uncomfortably, he hesitated. "I am here in search of housing," he finally said. Gotcha. He wanted to buy houses from locals just to tear 'em down. McCree didn't react outwardly, but he felt himself tense a little despite himself.

"Well, partner, I've got some bad news for ya. The folks 'round here don't take too kindly to those sorts of propositions, see? In fact, I'd reckon you might wanna high-tail it outta her, unless you've got other reasons to be here."

Shimada's eyes widened slightly, and he appeared to be slightly taken aback. "Do not misunderstand," he replied quickly, "I have no intention to cause harm to the locals. I just-" Jesse cut him off by raising his hand.

"Listen, Mr. Shimada," he drawled, "It don't matter how good your intentions may be. Like I said, the locals ain't the type to negotiate." Jesse scratched at his chin a little as he paused. Shimada seemed to physically deflate, as if in disappointment, and Jesse felt a little bad for shutting down his endeavors so quickly.

"I... Understand," Shimada said, and sighed heavily. "Is there at least somewhere I can stay for the night?" He squinted at the sun- it was beginning to sink further into the horizon, and the landscape blazed a brilliant red. Jesse hummed in acknowledgment.

"Sure do, Mr. Shimada. If you'd follow me, I could show you to the Inn. They've got mighty fine whisky, if that tickles yer fancy." Jesse smiled, and this time, it was genuine. This time, Shimada returned it. And this time, there wasn't an underlying sense of tension. Jesse mused to himself silently as Hanzo stepped out of his car- Maybe this businessman wasn't as bad as all the others, and maybe McCree would grow to like him.


	2. Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo's memories haunt his dreams and surprisingly, he's able to find respite in one of the locals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like this chapter a lot more than the first one. I hope you all liked it too! The next update will probably come in a few days. Sorry for the wait for this chapter- the holidays are hell. 
> 
> I'm tired. 
> 
> Please enjoy.
> 
> -Warning- Brief descriptions of blood and violence. But only for like, a sentence.

                It was late. It was nearly 2 in the goddamned morning, and Hanzo was dreadfully, _painfully_ awake. A nightmare had shocked through his unconscious mind and left him charred and frayed, and now, shaking and slightly nauseous, he was slowly recovering. He took a few more calming breaths that were supposed to suppress the dread coiling in his stomach, but he found little success. The dream was nothing new- pressure all around him to be perfect. Walls of expectation closing in around him, expecting to be stern. Pristine. Noble. _To kill his fucking brother._ The memory of the sword slipping through Genji's stomach and appearing through his back flashes across his mind. The vivid image of Genji's eyes going wide with pain and betrayal, the life slipping out of his eyes, the way Hanzo just _left him there to bleed out-_

Another wave of panic coursed through him, and he tried not to vomit.

Ugh.

He scrubbed a hand down his face and clutched the Inn's blankets in his hands. They're too scratchy for Hanzo's taste. Almost _everything_ in this town was too scratchy for Hanzo's taste- the people, the rough and unrefined wood of the buildings, the _sheriff-_ Hanzo stopped his train of thought abruptly and slipped further beneath the covers, shutting his eyes tight and forcing himself to slow his breathing. He longed desperately for a painless, restful sleep, but ever since his escape from Hanemura, he had rarely been granted that much.  

\--

The early morning sun filtered through the blinds and caused Hanzo to groggily wake. If it weren't for the way the sun slipped through the blinds and directly into Hanzo's face, he would most likely be asleep still. But, groaning to himself in discontent, he was most certainly awake. He pushed his hair out of his face and forced himself to sit up, and followed that by heaving his legs out from under the covers and to the side of the bed. He hunched himself over, his face resting in his hands, when he heard a knock from the door.

"Yes?" he called out weakly. 

There was a slight pause before the person on the other side of the door spoke. "Good mornin', Mr. Shimada," the voice said cheerfully, and Hanzo recognized it as the kindly innkeeper. "It's 'bout time for breakfast to be served, so make your way down here when you're ready."

Hanzo called out his thanks, and the innkeeper left. He quite frankly didn't think that he could handle eating anything right now. The aftershocks of his nightmare left him vaguely nauseous, so while he didn't think that he could stand eating anything, some tea would be in order.

He dressed quickly, deciding not to bring his overcoat with him. As he peered out the window, he took note of the seemingly endless sun and heat that the land was subjected to. He sighed heavily and left the room, shutting the door behind himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so short. I'll be updating much more regularly now that I have my own computer! If you ever wanna play Overwatch with me, just. Hit me up, I guess? 
> 
> Ok. Anyway. This chapter had a really big change in tone halfway through, so I guess you all get two chapters! Woo! Two for one!
> 
> (That's not saying much. This one is pretty much filler.)


	3. Small Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Howdy howdy boys! We finally have what you've all been waiting for.... MORE INTERACTION! This is more or less from McCree's view, and it may or may not switch back to Hanzo next chapter. I haven't thought that far ahead lol  
> Also: Flirting! Hanzo as repressed nerd, McCree as himself, and Bartender as voice of reason (except not really lmao)  
> Ok. Anyways, enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that my writing style seems to shift like every other paragraph lmao  
> I'm super inconsistent and I'm so sorry

_Two weeks._ Shimada had been in McCree's town for two entire weeks, paying for each night at the inn without missing a single payment. Jesse hadn't heard any talk of Shimada asking about any business-type deals. That's when it dawned on McCree that maybe-just _maybe-_ this man was either extremely stubborn, or his intentions truly _weren't_ malicious. He frowned and scratched at his chin idly. Despite himself, he felt a part of him in the back of his mind hoping for the second option. Shrugging to himself and bringing himself out of his thoughts, McCree entered the Inn, where he found Shimada chatting with the bartender.

 He approached Shimada with a bright smile on his face, and the bartender took this as his sign to tend to other early-morning customers.

"Well good mornin' to you, Mr. Shimada," he started. "How are you on this fine day?"

Hanzo gave a polite nod in return. "Good morning to you too, Sheriff," he replied. He allowed himself to offer McCree a slight smile, which was more than the Sheriff had received from him since his arrival, and for a split second, he was speechless. 

Recovering quickly and noticing the empty bar stool next to Shimada, he nodded to it. "Mind if I take a seat? I'm thinkin' I'll start the day off right with a glass of whiskey." He gave Shimada a crooked grin and a wink, and not waiting for an answer, plopped down beside him. Shimada didn't seem too upset. In fact, he didn't seem to react much at all. He just sat there, not-so-discretely regarding him out of the corner of his eye, and sipped at his drink.

This piqued McCree's interest. "Say, Shimada, what type 'a drink have you got yourself there? Some liquor, or somethin' more... refined?"

He chuckled a little when Shimada turned the slightest bit pink.

"Refined indeed, McCree," he said, and scoffed a little. "This is the finest tea from my home country." He gave McCree a sidelong glance, and placed the cup on the bar and slid it carefully to the Sheriff. 

"...You are welcome to try some." 

McCree's face lit up, and he tried his best to transition smoothly into his normal guarded friendliness, but he knew by the look on Hanzo's face that he had failed. "Well, Shimada, if you're sure, then I'd love to try some." A look of something playful- mischievous, even- flashed in Hanzo's eyes, and as McCree brought the cup to his lips, he almost regretted it. 

And regret he did when he tasted just how _bitter_ the tea was. 

He tried his damnedest not to grimace at the flavor, but then, Hanzo _laughed_ \- actually _laughed_ \- and McCree couldn't _not_ choke.

"Well? Do you like it?" Hanzo asked, his soft chuckle fading away. The mirth remained in his eyes. McCree took a moment to compose himself before speaking.

"It ain't exactly my cup of tea, Mr. Shimada, but maybe it's just an acquired taste." He chuckled, deep and low, and a playful glint found its way into his eye. "But tell me, Hanzo," he said, and waived down the bartender. The man behind the counter appeared. "Just the usual, Sam," he said, and added, "And make it double." He returned his attention as the bartender prepared their drinks, a knowing smile in place. He leaned in a little closer to Hanzo, and softly said, "Have you ever had _real_ hard liquor before?" He paused for dramatic effect, and smiled widely at the nervousness that Hanzo was too shocked to hide. 

"No, McCree, I have not. Perhaps you could inform me of its allure?" he said coyly, and he was either too preoccupied to be nervous or he was in control enough to flirt back.

Woah.

Flirting?

Okay.

Was this really happening?

If Hanzo's coy smile and ever-so-subtle bite to his lip was any indication, then yes, this _was indeed_ flirting.

McCree smiled wickedly. _"Well,_ Hanzo, prepare to have yerself your first taste of Dry Creek whiskey." Hanzo looked about ready to protest, but McCree wouldn't be having any of that. Oh, no. He would get his revenge for the Bitter Tea Incident. "Now, don't you worry for a _second_ , darlin'. I just thought I'd repay you for yer kind offer of the tea." Hanzo's eyes narrowed, and it appeared that he took the bait. Hook, line, and sinker. And maybe he'd take a bite out of McCree as well.

Ok, wow, that was a little... much. McCree swatted the thought out of mind with a wave of his hand, and the bartender returned, two shot glasses in hand. 

"Well, would ya look at that. Perfect timing as always, Sam," McCree said, and Sam laughed as he retreated back to the kitchen. McCree handed one shot glass to Hanzo, and lifted his own up in the air. "Cheers, Mr. Shimada," he said, and downed the alcohol in one gulp. Hanzo, not wanting to be outdone (which was an exercise in futility), mimicked McCree's actions and threw his head back, gulping down his drink. And oh god did it _burn_ going down. That much was made apparent by the expression on his face and the violent coughing that followed soon after. 

Letting out a throaty laugh, McCree watched as Hanzo gulped down the last of his tea, trying to chase away the burn. Tears prickled in the corners of his eyes and his face slowly turned red. As soon as he recovered, Hanzo sent a frustrated glare Jesse's way, catching his breath.

"Ohhh, come on, Shimada. Ain't no shame in the pain that comes with a man's first drink. I ain't about to judge ya." He leaned over, patting Hanzo on the back, he was surprised that he didn't shrug off his hand upon contact.

"That was. The worst drink. I've ever had," Hanzo choked out between gasps. McCree's hand lingered for a moment too long, and he didn't miss the way Hanzo slumped a little in his direction, no longer supported by his arm. 

"Y' just need to get used to it is all," McCree replied. "I can get you another one and see how you like it the second time around," he teased. Hanzo's face twisted into a look of disgust, and McCree let out a hearty laugh. Shimada couldn't help but laugh along with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My favorite headcanon about McCree is that he's a really charming and charismatic person, but when he gets excited, you can see how much of a dork he actually is hehe. Hence the tea scene.
> 
>  
> 
> Also I'm lowkey looking for someone to make a collaborative fic with so if you're interested drop me a line lmaoooo


	4. We Fall Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We already know about Hanzo's demons.
> 
> But what about McCree?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS- Some body horror, some fairly descriptive gore, and a whole lotta pain.

"I do declare, Mr. McCree, you are a _sight for sore eyes_."

McCree spun around, nearly tripping over himself with the rush of his motions. His gaze settled on the intruder, and by _God_ did he wish he could look away. 

"Gabe," he wheezed out, his eyes wide. His hand reflexively reached for his Peacekeeper, but one sharp and commanding look from Reyes made him freeze in place. 

Gabriel stood tall, in all of his dark, menacing glory. The shadows around him twisted and folded upon themselves, and Jesse was terrified that they might decide to envelop him in their murky embrace, swallowing him up, drowning him into their inky depths, never to return. 

"Now, Jesse," he said, mockingly. His eyes- all eight of them- narrowed in mock sympathy. As he exhaled McCree's name, a steady stream of thick, black smoke slunk from between his lips and the holes on either sides of his cheeks. "It's almost like you aren't happy to see me."

Jesse tried to gasp out a strangled response, but found that he didn't have the strength to. It was like just being in the same room as this- this fucking _monster_ physically drained the life out of McCree. Reyes laughed darkly at McCree's speechlessness; even more of the pitch-black smoke puffed out and briefly obstructed Jesse's view of his face.

That brief moment was just barely long enough to snap McCree out of the trance Gabe seemingly held over him. Voice quivering far more than he would ever admit to, McCree finally spoke.

"Reyes. What the _fuck_ are you doin' in my town? Much less in my fuckin' _house_ , for God's sake!"

A sharp, reprimanding glare from Reyes was all Jesse needed to receive to promptly shut the fuck up, his jaw snapping shut. He stiffened even more as Gabe took a few steps towards McCree, the same hauntingly fake smile on his face. 

He kept walking until he was toe-to-toe with McCree, and brought up his hand to rest on Jesse's face, his clawed gloves rough against his cheek. He leaned his face in close, right up to McCree's ear, and Jesse was insanely dissatisfied to be so close to the very source of countless nightmares and sleepless nights he had suffered since Reyes had first revealed himself in his new _horrendous_ form.

"Listen, Jesse, I'm going to let you in on a little secret. I'm not exactly the same man I used to be. That's pretty obvious, isn't it?"

He chuckled darkly, and McCree had to resist the urge to vomit. Or cry. Or both.

Not waiting for a reply, he continued. "You're gonna help me regain my powers I've since lost, won't you?" He flexed his fingers and the talons on the ends of his fingers bit into McCree's cheek. He clenched his jaw tightly and refused to respond to Reaper.

"The answer is yes, Jesse. Whether you like it or not."

And with that, Reaper sunk his unoccupied claws into Jesse's gut, effectively eviscerating him and spilling his organs on the floor. Jesse buckled over without so much as a sound.

"Hold still," Reaper cooed, and sunk his teeth into Jesse's neck. His blood and his life force steadily drained out of him, both of which Gabriel Reyes soaked up with delight.

\-------

"What the fuck." Jesse murmured, sat upright in bed, covered in sweat and quite possibly tears.

"What the _fuck_ ," he repeated, and clumsily stood, making a beeline for his kitchen- or more specifically, the liquor cabinet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be much happier I promise!!!
> 
> I'm deadass so sorry for this one i needed to let off some steam. And what's better than horribly injuring your favorite character, am I right?

**Author's Note:**

> I'm planning on writing a lot more for this, so if you have any comments/suggestions/feedback, please feel free to tell me! I'd be more than happy to hear from you all.  
> (Comments are lowkey the only things that keep me writing so the more I hear from y'all the more I'm motivated to write ;) )


End file.
